


The Cat that got Away

by commanderlurker (honeybee592)



Series: OTP: You're the boss [20]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cat Cafe, Cats, F/M, Kink Negotiation, Oblivious, One-Sided Attraction, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 07:25:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10157402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeybee592/pseuds/commanderlurker
Summary: Grace just misses out on adopting a cat but the man who got there first gets her number and invites her over. His name is Bull and he's big, charming, and has an odd collection of phallic sculptures on his book case. Grace doesn't pay any attention to that though. She's got eyes only for the cat she missed out on.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Credit where it's due: Thank you, libba, for sending me the initial AU. You have the best ideas, as always :)
> 
>  
> 
> Kind of a spoiler, but I feel the need to mention it: I really didn't know how to tag for this, but FYI, there is a fully clothed, semi-public orgasm caused by both Bull's hella sexy voice and a well-placed cat paw. Like, the cat is sitting on her lap over two layers of fabric. I don't consider it bestiality, so take this as a warning in case that's not your thing.

The plaintive eyes staring at Grace out of the photo told her everything she needed to know about this cat. Sweet, loving, mischievous. Just the kind of cat Grace needed. Lou Lou, it was called. A ginger tabby, girl, spayed and wormed and ready for adoption. She threw on some clean clothes, tied her hair back in a bun and was out the door. Next stop: cat cafe.

*

Her eyes were just as green in real life as they were in the photo but they weren’t staring back at Grace. They started at a huge man in a Hawaiian shirt and baggy hemp trousers. Lou Lou sat in his arms, curled up and looking tiny. She wasn’t a small cat, either. Four years old, the vet reckoned, and keen on food. Grace’s hands itched to stroke that soft ginger belly fur but she stood awkwardly, looking longingly at the cat that she’d been five minutes too late for.

“Hey,” the big guy said. “You looking at her too?”

Grace tore her gaze away from Lou Lou to look at the man. He had an eye patch over his left eye and deep scars peeking out. His one eye was grey, or green

“Yes. I got the notification and came straight down. Looks like I wasn’t fast enough though.” She couldn’t hide her disappointment.

“Heh. Me too. You, uh, you okay?”

Grace sniffed and swallowed a gob of snot. “Yes, yes I’m fine. Are you… you’re pretty attached to her, aren’t you.”

The man scratched Lou Lou’s belly and Lou Lou started purring a deep, rumbly purr that pitched to a squeaky rattle at the end. The man laughed and Grace let out a giggle.

“She’s something special, that’s for sure,” the man said. “Look, I can see you really like this one and I normally wouldn’t be all possessive, especially about a cat, but… I feel like she’s the One, you know?”

Grace nodded. She understood exactly what the man meant. “My One died last month. Well, I had her put down. Old age and a creaky body catching up with her. She’d been sick a while and, well, I’m not sure I’ll ever get the stink of cat pee out of my carpet but… Sorry. I didn’t mean to ramble. I was lucky enough to have her as long as I did. You should have that opportunity too.”

The man frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Lou Lou started purring again. A ridiculous rattle. She sounded like she was revving her engines for take-off.

Grace laughed. “I hope you have thick walls.”

The man grinned. “I know, right? I’ll have to wear earplugs when I sleep.” They both patted Lou Lou, trying to get her to purr even louder.

“Think you’ll keep her name?” Grace asked.

“Lou Lou, right? I kinda think she’s more of a Tiger. Look at her! I bet she could take down a boar! Or maybe just a mouse. Either way.” The man smiled at Grace for a moment too long. Grace looked down at--Tiger, yes, that name was perfect--just to get away from his gaze.

“So, this might be weird,” he said, “but, you want to come see her? At my place? Once she’s all settled in. I can give you my number.”

Grace blinked up at the man. He looked ridiculous in his Hawaiian shirt and his stubbly beard and that eye patch should’ve made him look dodgy but all in all, he seemed like a genuinely nice guy. “Are you sure? You’re not just saying that? I wouldn’t want to be a burden.”

“Nah, you’re good. If I didn’t want you knowing where I lived if I thought you’d steal my cat, I wouldn’t have made the offer.”

Grace smirked. “Now you’re giving me ideas.”

The man laughed, deep and loud. Tiger didn’t bat a paw. In fact, she might’ve fallen asleep. “Go on, get your phone out. My hands are full so I’ll tell you my number.”

Grace took out her phone and fumbled through the options before finding the place to enter new contacts. The first box was highlighted and Grace frowned. “I’m sorry, I don’t even know your name and here we are exchanging phone numbers. I’m Grace.”

“Grace.” The man smiled. “I’m Bull.”

Grace raised her eyebrows. “Bull? As in the animal?”

“Yeah, you know, ‘cause I kinda look like a… I’m a big guy. Anyway. Bull’s easier for everyone.” Maybe people had trouble pronouncing his real name.

Bull said his number and Grace repeated it back to him before sending him a text. A… roar emanated from his pocket. Not like a lion’s roar but a beast of some sort. Grace looked to his thigh like the animal would poke its head out of his pocket. Nothing to indicate a tiny but loud animal. Just… best not think about his thighs.

“I’ll be in touch,” he said.

“Thank you.” Grace gave Tiger a goodbye pat. She considered staying and getting a pot of tea, maybe looking at the other cats for adoption but disappointment weighed heavy on her. She left and hoped that Bull would keep his word. In the meantime, she’d keep an eye on the cat cafe’s app.

*

She received a text that afternoon, a photo of Tiger curled up on that Hawaiian shirt. It looked like it was on a bed or couch.

Grace grinned and replied immediately

>Grace: She looks at home already!  
>Bull: Yeah, I just took my shirt off and she jumped up on the bed and started kneading it like bread, then she sat down. Is that normal?

Grace laughed. They went back and forth with Grace telling Bull how cats worked, answering his questions, giving him tips. He seemed fascinated, coming back with more questions or asking for examples. He sent more photos, too, once Tiger had woken up. Grace loved it but every message and every photo made her heart ache for Wiggles. Maker, how she missed that cat.

The messages trailed off in the late afternoon and Grace busied herself with cooking an elaborate dinner for one, just to keep her mind off of Bull and Tiger.

*

Three days went by with just a couple of photos. No invitation had been forthcoming and Grace started to suspect that Bull was just humouring her with the photos he sent. Best if she didn’t try and engage in conversation. Just let the texts die out naturally.

A couple of days after that though, while Grace sat at her sewing table, came the text she’d been waiting for.

>Bull: Sorry for the silence. Been busy cleaning up cat crap. She kicks the litter everywhere! Anyway, got any plans this weekend? Want to come over?

Butterflies erupted in Grace’s belly, her grin so wide her face ached. Her thumbs hovered over the screen, her mind throwing out all sorts of responses all at once. She started a reply and deleted it. Started another and deleted that one, too. _Calm down, Grace. It’s just a cat_. She took a deep breath and stared at the wall for a moment, eyes settling on the portrait of her and Wiggles.

She managed a reply and suggested a time on Saturday. She limited herself to only one smiley cat emoji then clicked ‘send’.

After a minute had passed with no reply, she made herself leave her phone on the couch and went to make a cup of tea. By the time she’d returned, she had her reply.

He said yes! Maker, he lived all the way on the other side of town though. She’d have to cycle there. Plenty of time to work that out. In the meantime, she had gifts to procure.

*

Saturday came around soon enough. Grace smoothed her skirt and tucked her scarf under her cardigan so it wouldn’t flap in the breeze. She loaded up her basket with her gifts and pushed off, cycling through town at a leisurely rate so she wouldn’t work up too much of a sweat.

Finding Bull’s apartment building was easy but find a secure place to lock up her bike required a phone call. He gave her the code for the underground garage, his voice a little rougher--dare she say, _sexier_ \--than it had been in person. Three floors up, no four--because of the basement--she stood in front of Bull’s door. She raised her hand to knock but the door opened and there stood Bull.

No Hawaiian shirt this time, just a tight, soft pink singlet. Maker, had he always had muscles that large? His biceps looked as thick as her thighs. And he was covered in tattoos, black geometric shapes. He’d shaved his cheeks, leaving a short goatee and as she slipped past him into the apartment, she caught a musky, manly scent.

All that was forgotten though when she spied a ginger pussy cat clawing her way up the arm of a chaise lounge.

“Tiger!” She rushed over. Tiger had made her way to the armrest and proceeded to claw that, too. Grace held her firmly by the scruff of her neck and eased her paws off the armrest. “Naughty kitty! You’re not supposed to claw the couch!”

Bull wandered over, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah, she’s been doing that. I got her a scratching post but she doesn’t like it as much as the chaise.”

The post in question sat against the wall. She gave it a shove. Grace frowned. “Well, there’s your problem. It’s too wobbly. You need something sturdier. You might want to try a piece of carpet, too. Cats like carpet and you’ve just got wood floors. And toys! She’s called Tiger for a reason. Do you have toys that she can scratch and chew?”

“Uh, yeah. I got these.” Bull fished a mouse and a teddy bear out from under the couch. Both were chewed and torn. “The mouse was made by a friend. He sews cuddly toys and shit and gave me this when I told him about Tiger.”

“This is a good start. I brought some toys, too. And some catnip. Cats can scratch and be naughty when they’re bored, so keep her entertained. Are you at home during the day?”

Bull shrugged. “In and out.”

Grace upended her bag, sending toys and bags of food sprawling. She threw a rope-wrapped ball across the floor and Tiger chased after it, skidding along the wood.

“See? Fun! I could do this all day.” Grace sat on the floor and lined up all the toys. A few mice, including the beautiful mouse made by Bull’s friend, and the teddy, plus some balls that rattled. She rattled a ball and Tiger came running back, walking all over Grace. She laughed as she teased Tiger. Tiger nosed her and purred that loud, silly purr again.

“Hey, you want a drink? Tea, coffee, whiskey?”

Grace looked up, remembering where she was. “Tea would be lovely, please.”

“Coming up.”

Bull wandered way to the kitchen while Grace continued to play with Tiger. She spotted a black stick with a leather flap on the coffee table and grabbed that, batting Tiger with it. Tiger did her best to catch the flap, but Grace was too quick. At some point Bull brought her tea over. He sat with her a while, throwing the mouse and laughing whenever Tiger slid on the floor. He leaned back on one arm, so close to Grace that their shoulders brushed. He felt nice, warm. He smelled amazing. Then Tiger ran up to him and started clawing her way up his chest.

“Ow ow ow.” He sat up, prising her off. “I’m not used to being on the receiving end.” He held her at arm’s length. “You are a terror.” She wiggled out of his grasp started a fight with the teddy.

Grace spent the better part of the afternoon playing with Tiger while Bull puttered around his apartment. Her tea had gone cold but Bull made her a new one. When her stomach started rumbling, she looked at her watch.

“Maker! It’s almost dinner time.” She stood up and gathered her things. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know where the time went.”

Bull smiled. He wandered over from the kitchen, rolling his massive shoulders. He really was quite the sight. “No problem,” he said. “You want to stay for dinner? I just got started.”

The smells coming from the kitchen really were wonderful but Grace politely declined. “I wouldn't want to outstay my welcome.”

Bull looked disappointed. Grace started to reconsider but Bull spoke first. “What about another time?”

“For dinner, you mean?”

“Yeah. How about it?”

Well, that was quite the offer. Dinner and a chance to play with Tiger some more? She’d be crazy to turn that down. “That would be wonderful, thank you.”

As Bull walked her to the door, they made plans. Wednesday after work, and she wasn’t to bring anything. “I’ll take care of it all, don’t worry.”

“You’re quite the gentleman, aren’t you.” The words were out before she realised what she’d said. She blushed and looked away.

Bull laughed, low and rumbly. “I’ll see you then, Grace. And thanks for the toys and treats. I’ll get her a new scratching post tomorrow, see if that helps.”

“Yes, send a photo!” Grace darted out the door before she could say anything else embarrassing. She’d already started skipping down the stairs when the door clicked closed behind her.

*

Krem: You still sending the cat lady photos of Tiger?  
Bull: Uh huh. She’s cute.  
Rocky: the cat or the chick?  
Bull: Both. And Rocky, please, she’s a woman.  
Rocky: Yeah yeah. Have you made any pussy jokes yet?  
Krem: You didn’t invite her over, did you?  
Bull: I am hurt that you would think I would stoop so low as to make such a crass joke.  
Bull: And yes, she has been over. She played with the cat for three hours while I did the dishes and cooked dinner.  
Rocky: Oh shit that’s good!  
Grim: !!!  
Skinner: She sounds awful. Do not pursue her.  
Krem: Did she stay for dinner?  
Bull: Nah, but I got a date out of her. Wednesday night. I’m bringing her to The Chargers so Krem you better bring your A game.  
Krem: Lots of oysters then?  
Bull: You guys wanna see a picture of Tiger? She’s so cute.  
Rocky: NO  
Skinner: NO  
Krem: NO  
Grim: :(  
Dalish: YES PLEASE

*

Grace took a bus to Bull’s this time. No way she wanted to ride her bike through town in the dark and possibly after a wine or three. She didn’t see any bottles at Bull’s the other day, but then she hadn’t seen much at all. She had eyes only for Tiger.

He buzzed her into the building and as she walked up the stairs, she picked off errant cat fur from her cardigan. Maker, this was clean on today. How could her house still be covered in cat hair when no cats had lived there for a month? Like last time, he opened the door before she had a chance to knock. There didn’t appear to be any security cameras around. Maybe he waited by the door, peering out through the peep hole. Or maybe he knew how long it took people to walk from the front door.

“Hey Grace.” Bull stepped to the side to let her in.

“Nice to see you again.” Grace was happy to see him again, truly, but she was also excited to see Tiger. There she was, asleep on the chaise. Grace walked over, passing the solid and _huge_ cat scratching post, and sat down. Tiger woke up and gave a tiny little mew. Grace mewed back. A feathery stick sat on the coffee table so she picked that up and started teasing Tiger with it.

“Uh, you might not want to use that one,” Bull said. He wandered over and took it from Grace. She must have looked puzzled. “It’s got blunt pins in it. Not really suitable for cats.” He prised the feathers apart and showed her. He gave her an ostrich feather instead. Why he’d have a feathery stick with hidden pins in it made no sense to Grace but this ostrich feather was lovely. She brushed it over her face before turning it to Tiger. “I’ll just get my shoes on and we can go out.”

“Hmm?” Grace looked up from where Tiger batted the feather.

“For dinner, right?”

Grace tried to keep the confusion out of her face. “Yes, dinner. Of course.” Now that she thought about it, Bull did look very well dressed for a dinner at home. Black dress trousers, a shiny gold belt buckle and a purple shirt that looked like silk. She wanted to stroke his arm, just to feel it, but restrained herself. And there weren’t any kitchen smells. Right. He’d invited her for dinner, but not at his house. Oh dear. Well, not much she could do about that now.

“Shall we?” Bull held his hand out for Grace. She took it, surprised by his hand engulfed hers.

Grace waved goodbye to Tiger and the pair made their way out.

Once they were outside, Bull led her down the block and around the corner. Lots of nice cafes and boutiques around this suburb. She’d let go of his hand back in the apartment, feeling it odd to hold when they weren’t an item and anyway, he was so much taller than her that walking while holding hands felt ridiculous.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“The friend who made the toys? He’s also a chef. He’s got a little restaurant just down here. He’s better with food than he is a needle and thread.”

“Well, that mouse was exquisite so I look forward seeing what he can conjure up.”

The Chargers really was a lovely little restaurant. Tucked away from the main street and with just a simple sign on the frontage, you had to know it was there to go in. Inside, small vases held a flower or two, decorating tables covered in red and white check cloths. A few other diners tucked into meals and as Bull led Grace to a table, she realised that all the tables were angled in such a way that afforded privacy to just about everyone.

He pulled out her chair for her, then sat once she’d made herself comfortable. She thanked him, taken aback at his courtesy. She rarely had a door open for her, let alone a chair pulled out.

They discussed Tiger until a waitress came over. A lovely blonde woman. She moved as though she were living a dream, dancing, almost. She gave Grace a huge smile that seemed a little over the top for a waitress but Grace smiled back. Then she smiled at Bull. Grace couldn’t quite tell but she seemed to have given him a wink. After welcoming them both, she poured filled their glasses with water and asked for their drink orders.

Grace looked to Bull, who looked to her. They hadn’t been given a wine list so how was she to know what to drink if she didn’t know what they had? “I’ll just have the water, thank you.”

“You sure?” Bull asked. “They’ve got just about every wine you can imagine. Plus beer. They make a mean house brew.”

The name of every wine she liked fell out of her head.

“Just the usual for me, thanks Dalish.” Bull said.

The waitress, Dalish, turned on her heel and danced away.

“I’m sorry,” Grace said. “I didn’t know what to get. I like wine very much but my mind went blank.”

“Hey, no need to apologise. No need to order now, anyway. Krem’ll match you something to go with your meal, I’m sure.”

Krem? He must be the chef. What a strange place. But if Bull knew the chef, then it made sense for him to know the waitress and how the whole place worked.

Dalish returned with Bull’s beer and wandered away again. Were they not going to get menus? Grace’s stomach rumbled and she apologised again. Bull chuckled that low, rumbly laugh of his and told her not to worry, to just relax and enjoy herself. She tried, but relaxing was hard when she had no menu to distract herself from this bizarre situation and Bull’s scrutiny.

A distraction came in the form of a handsome young man with one of those fashionable haircuts with the shaved sides and styled up top.

“Evening. You must be Grace. Bull’s said a lot about you. All good, of course. Happy to meet you. I’m Krem.” He stuck out his hand and Grace shook it, bewildered.

“Hello. Are you… the friend who makes the cat toys?” Yes, of course he was. Bull just told her that, but it bought herself a bit more time until the menus came out. Anyway, Krem had a delightful smile, dimples, even.

“That’s me.”

“Oh, so you’re also the chef! I’ve never met a chef before.” Grace cringed at how much of a bumpkin she must sound. Maker, why did Bull have to take her out? She was perfectly happy at his house with Tiger.

Krem puffed his chest out. “Well I’ll try and leave a good impression, then. So, what do you want?”

“I’m sorry?”

“To eat. You name it, I’ll make it.”

Grace looked to Bull for guidance but he just sat there with a smirk. He came to his rescue though, providing an explanation. “The Chargers doesn’t bother with menus. Fancy a steak? Krem will cook you the perfect steak. Salad? He’ll make the dressing from scratch. Sushi, seafood--all fresh--caviar, too. Whatever you want. So, what do you want?”

Grace opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water. Bull cleared his throat and dragged Krem’s attention away from Grace. “How about you give us a couple more minutes to fantasize.”

Krem nodded and wandered away.

A lump formed in Grace’s throat. She wouldn’t cry. Not here, in a restaurant. Not over a lack of menus. “I’m so sorry. I’m just not used to this. I’m not even sure I know what food is right now!”

Bull reached across the table and took Grace’s hand in his. “Hey, you’re okay. Don’t stress. We can get a platter of shit and share that. Not shit. You know. Bread and olives and cheese. That--”

“I love cheese!”

Bull smiled. “Then it’s settled.” He waved in the direction of the kitchen and Krem wandered out again. “Your take on tapas, please. And wine.” Bull looked to Grace. “Riesling? Pinot Grigio?”

Grace just nodded.

“I’ll fix you up,” Krem said before heading back to the kitchen.

Grace opened her mouth but Bull spoke first.

“You apologise too much,” he said.

“I’m sorry.” Grace squeezed her eyes shut and grimaced. Bull started laughing, warm and bright. Grace risked a glance. His features were soft, friendly. So he wasn’t laughing at her. She smiled, and the smile turned into a laugh. There they were, giggling over Grace’s own stupidity for so long that she didn’t notice the waitress come out with a bottle of wine. Grace wiped the tears--happy, for once--from her eyes and accepted the glass poured for her.

Bull raised his and Grace did the same. They clinked glasses and Grace took a sip. And, oh, oh Maker this was, oh this was _good_. She took another sip, and another, letting the wine flow over her tongue. Before she knew it, she’d downed half the glass. She put it down and wiped her mouth with a napkin. Bull gave her an appraising look.

“Good?” he asked.

“It’s perfect,” she replied. And it was, like it had been made just for her. She picked up the bottle, turning it to figure it out but the label was in another language. She’d never seen this one in the shops before. That probably meant that it was very expensive.

“So. Cats and cheese. What else do you like?”

Grace put the bottle down, resisting the urge to just run out of the restaurant with it and find a nice quiet place to drink the whole thing. “That’s about it, really. Cats more than cheese, if I’m honest. I… I have a store on etsy. I make clothes, usually dresses and skirts. Pretty fabrics with cat motifs are my favourite.” She plucked at her dress. “I made this one.”

“It’s beautiful. And that’s your job? Nice.” His smile seemed genuine and Grace smiled back. He proceeded to pepper her with questions about her business, what she made, where she sourced her fabric. Maker, what a nice change! Most men, she found, weren’t interested enough in dresses and fabric to ask so many questions but Bull was. He wasn’t just humouring her, either. And even when their platter arrived in the middle of a discussion about environmentally friendly dye, Bull said they’d pick up the thread later. Grace snorted at his pun. The platter did look wonderful and Grace’s mouth watered. Cheeses and pickles, tiny onions, ham, salami, prosciutto, breads and crackers, sundried tomatoes, chutneys and dips.

“Oh, Maker, this looks amazing!” Grace said.

Krem beamed. “I’ll leave you to it.”

They tucked in, eating and talking, reaching over to dip and scoop. It wasn’t until the platter was almost empty that Grace realised that Bull had been asking most of the questions.

She caught herself before she apologised again. “Here I am answering all your questions but I haven’t asked you any! How rude of me.”

Bull patted his mouth with his napkin. “Nah, you’re good. I like hearing what you have to say. Your face lights up when you’re happy. I like it.” Grace blushed and gave a shy smile. “Anyway, I think of how disappointed you looked when you found that Tiger had already been taken and shit, I still feel bad about that. I don’t ever want to be the cause of your unhappiness.”

Oh, _oh_. Grace’s heart did a little flip. She reached across the table and rested her hand on Bull’s. How bold. It must have been the wine. “I’m just glad she has such a wonderful owner.”

Bull grunted. “I’m not sure that’s how it works. I think she owns me.”

Grace laughed. “Yes, that does sound about right.”

He turned his hand so Grace’s lay in his palm. His thumb brushed over her knuckles, back and forth. His one eye locked on hers and Grace the moment felt so natural that she didn’t feel the urge to look away. She sat there, content and quiet, just the two of them.

The moment broke when the waitress bounded over. “How did you enjoy your meal?” she asked.

Grace cringed as she jerked her hand away to rest on her lap. Bull looked mighty annoyed but was pleasant enough in his reply.

“Would you like dessert?” the waitress asked.

Grace shook her head at the same time as Bull said, “Nah, we’ll eat at home.” Bull’s smile had teeth. Well. That was a little presumptuous of him but Grace _had_ been hoping for an invite back to his house.

The waitress skipped away and Bull stood.

“Shall we?” he asked.

Grace stood too, but hovered near the table. “Aren’t we going to pay?”

“Nah.”

“No?” Grace looked around and realised they were the only patrons left in the restaurant. She lowered her voice anyway. “She was a bit rude to come over like that but we can’t not pay, or leave no tip!”

A voice called out from the kitchen. “Leaving already? See you!”

Krem, Grace realised. He waved a spoon and smiled.

“See?” Bull said. “He knows where I live if he wants to collect on the debt.”

Bull put his hand on Grace’s shoulder and led her out of the restaurant. They chatted as they walked back to Bull’s, picking up on the dye conversation from earlier. Then they stood outside Bull’s building.

“My turn to apologise,” he said. “Didn’t mean to be so forward back there when she asked about dessert. You don’t have to come up if you don’t want to. I do have some crème brulee in the fridge though. Just needs the sugar on top.” He laughed but Grace didn’t understand why. She’d go upstairs though, to see Tiger. Crème brulee was just a bonus.

*

Dalish: How was dessert?  
Rocky: Yeah, “dessert”. Heh.  
Bull: I haven’t forgiven you, Dalish. We were having a moment.  
Dalish: I know. You looked very happy.  
Bull: Then why did you ruin it?  
Krem: Come on Chief, you’ve recovered from worse.  
Krem: Wait. Don’t tell me you didn’t get laid.  
Bull: I don’t want to talk about it.  
Rocky: Shit! He’s losing his touch!  
Grim: !!  
Dalish: Oh. Oh dear. I’m so sorry!  
Skinner: Have any of you considered that the cat lady may, in fact, be a lesbian?  
Rocky: She has a point  
Bull: She’s not a lesbian.  
Krem: How do you know? And don’t say she’s Bullsexual. That’s not a thing.  
Bull: There’s sexual tension there. I can feel it. I just need to tease it out of her.  
Dalish: You never answered my question. Did she come up for dessert? (I’m still sorry, btw)  
Bull: Yeah, she came up.  
Dalish: And?  
Bull: She kinda just played with the cat. Used my good crop, too. It’s all chewed up.  
Rocky: ARE YOU SERIOUS!!!????!???!??  
Skinner: Lesbian.  
Grim: :D :D  
Krem: Shit Chief.  
Bull: I’m gonna ask her out again.  
Krem: Good luck to you.

*

Grace parked her bike in the garage of Bull’s building and unloaded her basket. She had a cushion with her, one that she’d made. She’d promised it to him when they’d met at the cat cafe earlier in the week. There they’d talked for hours and Grace managed to make sure that she asked him some questions, too. She wasn’t sure she understood what he did but whatever it was, he worked from home, like her.

The door to his apartment was open, classical music wafting out.

“Hello?” she called.

“Hey,” Bull replied. He was in the kitchen, taking something sweet-smelling out of the oven. Maker, he wasn’t wearing a shirt! He put the tray down and padded over. Grace tried to avoid staring at his bare chest but couldn’t quite bring herself to meet his eye, so she darted her gaze down only to suck in a breath. His trousers, a light cotton by the looks of it, were loose, slung low on his hips, under his belly. They had red and green vertical stripes. They looked ridiculous but suited him somehow. “How’s it going?”

She tore her gaze back up to him. “Hello, I’m sorry. No, I’m not sorry. No, yes I am. You’re not--I didn’t mean--” She pointed at his chest. “Shirt?”

Bull feigned shock and looked down at his torso. “Oh, shit! You’re right!” He was clearly taking the piss and that just made Grace burn even hotter. “I can go put one on. Give me a second.” He headed down the hall, calling out behind him, “Make yourself at home.”

Grace had a quick look for Tiger but couldn’t see her. She sat on the edge of the chaise and put the cushion next to her, then clasped her hands on her knees. She realised that she’d never really looked around. The coffee table was bare but for a bowl with wrapped sweets and a big square photo book. The cover had a naked person on it so she looked away. The painting on the walls looked vaguely human shaped and a touch sexual when she tilted her head. The bookshelf was stacked full of books except for a shelf in the middle which had a line of rather phallic-looking sculptures. Bull’s footsteps distracted her from further investigation.

“Better?” He asked.

Maker, not by much. He wore the same kind of pink singlet from her first visit. “Lovely,” she managed.

He smiled and took her drink order. Tea, as usual. Not wanting to be waited on, Grace followed Bull into the kitchen. Bull put the kettle on then started levering out tiny little cupcakes from an oven tray.

“Those are adorable!” Grace said.

Bull smiled. “I’ll ice them in a bit. Still, we could have one with our drinks, yeah? You go sit down. I’ll bring these over.”

“Are you sure? I’m happy to help.”

“Nah, put your feet up. Relax. Tiger’s asleep on my bed. Go see her, if you want. First door on the left.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t.” His bedroom? Really? How intimate! She went and sat back down on the chaise instead, feeling distinctly out of place with no cat to play with. She felt distinctly out of place just sitting where she was. Maker, who owned a chaise lounge these days? As comfortable as it was, it was the only piece of living room furniture. No big soft couch and seat set. No TV, either. Just the risqué art behind her and the bookshelf on the opposite wall.

Bull brought over a tray with a teapot and two dainty teacups, complete with saucers, and a plate of still-warm cupcakes. While they waited for the tea to brew, she presented him with the cushion.

“Shit, it’s got Tiger’s face on it.” he said. “That’s fucking adorable. When did you take the photo?”

Grace beamed. “It’s one of yours. I hope you don’t mind. I won’t use it commercially if you don’t want me to.”

“Shit, no, you should! Everyone should see this little beast.” He grinned at it a moment longer before putting it on the chaise between them. “Is there anything you haven’t put a cat on?”

Grace laughed. “Not really! My best seller is a bit rude, actually.” His eye lit up. “My cat print underwear always sold quite well. Just a black silhouette of a cat repeated in a pattern. I had it on different coloured backgrounds. Surprisingly popular on the boxers, too. Anyway, my cat flopped on a pair one day and there was her head on the, you know, crotch region and I laughed so hard.” She snort laughed then. “So I sourced the right kind of picture and put it on and now they keep selling out!”

Bull laughed, too, for real. “That’s perfect. I love it. Seriously, you got any that are my size?”

Grace took the opportunity to look him up and down. Mainly down. “Not briefs, but I could make you some.” Oh, Maker, did she just say that? Honestly.

Bull’s grin reached his ears. Maker, he had a wonderfully mischievous smile. To distract herself, Grace gave the teapot a wiggle and then poured two cups. She sat back, holding the teacup in both hands, blowing on it. “I wanted to ask, you only have this one couch. It’s very fancy, but, what if you have more than two guests?”

Bull gave a short laugh. “I got some other furniture I drag out when I need to. That stuff doesn’t suit the tone I’m going for in here, though.”

Grace nodded. “It’s very… sensual. I like it.”

Bull smiled. He kept Grace’s attention focussed on him and looked like he was about to say something when a cat meowed and clawed her way up Bull’s leg.

“Tiger!” he grunted, biting off a swearword. “I’ve told you. No needles.” By the time he’d set his cup down, Tiger had made her way to his lap. But she wasn’t content to sit still. She walked over to Grace and promptly head-butted the teacup right out of Grace’s hand. Tea went everywhere, burning Grace’s legs and the cup hit the floor but somehow didn’t smash. She jumped up and flapped her dress. Tiger darted away from the mess and Bull was on his feet too.

“Shit. You okay? I’ll get you a cold cloth, hold on.” He muttered something to Tiger but Grace couldn’t catch what he said.

“I’m fine,” she called. “Just a little damp.” She risked a glance. Her thighs were dappled with bright red splotches. Maker, how embarrassing. Her own fault too. She should have known that Tiger would do something like that.

Bull came back with a tea towel dripping water on the floor. He pulled out a chair at the dining table and told her to sit. With an awkward hand-dance where their knuckles brushed against each other, Grace tried to avoid flashing Bull while he lay the towel over her legs. Once in place, the relief was instant.

Bull apologised again and called for Tiger to come and apologise too. Cats don’t listen though so she stayed where she was, near the kitchen, licking herself. Over at the chaise, Bull dropped a towel on the floor to soak up the tea. Most of it had landed on Grace’ lap though.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. I’m just glad I didn’t break your tea cup. It looks ancient.”

He came back and sat with her. He proceeded to tell her the story of how he came to own a full tea service after an old lady he did a job for died before he got paid. Something about lawyers eating into the money because the children fought over the will and in the end all that was left of any value was her collection of tea sets.

“I’m told it’s worth more than the job was so I’m not complaining.”

“Why didn’t you sell it?”

Bull pressed his hand to his chest in mock horror. “Sell this? Then how would I have tea parties?”

Grace laughed. She couldn’t picture Bull sitting around the table eating cucumber sandwiches and drinking tea.

“How are your legs?” he asked.

Grace risked a peek. Still red but not burning any more. “Much better, thank you. I might dry myself off though.”

Bull directed her to the bathroom. “There are towels in the cupboard.”

She locked the door and breathed a sigh of relief. Maker. First her thighs burned and now they froze. Cycling home would not be fun. It was the damp fabric that agitated her more than anything. She flapped her dress out then looked for the towel cupboard. Holy moly, this bathroom! Grace had never seen a bathroom so big! It must’ve been the size of her bedroom! A huge wet-floor shower took up almost an entire wall. No curtain or divider. Just a dip in the tiles to direct the flow of water to the plug hole. In the corner at the end was a triangle bath. A spa bath on closer inspection. Big, too. Maker, you could fit three people in there! She supposed that Bull was quite a large man. The toilet must have been hidden behind the cupboard. She snuck her head around. Well. That was the plainest thing in the whole room. She found a towel easily enough and patted down her legs and dress. Then she used the toilet. The sink had a bar of soap but there was a fancy dispenser on the bath's edge that she just had to try. She put her hands under it and a squirt of clear soap came out. Hands free! How fancy! She was still rubbing it in when she opened the door. Bull wasn’t at the table. Must have been in the kitchen.

“That’s some strange soap in the bathroom,” she said, walking back to the chaise. “It’s very slippery.” The moment she said it, she realised what it was. It wasn’t soap at all. It was… lube. As in, personal lubricant lube. Maker, who put that in a soap dispenser in a bathroom? Then she caught the bowl on the coffee table. Those weren’t individually wrapped sweets. They were condoms! And those _were_ paintings of naked people on the wall! Nipples stared back at her, taunting her with their perkiness. She whirled around. The sculptures on the bookshelf were… oh Maker _how had she not seen that they were_ _dildos_. Every one of them, even the weird looking ones. She continued to rub her hands together but this must have been high quality lube because it wasn’t drying out or losing its slipperiness. Tiger snaked around Grace’s legs and Grace’s mind went straight back to her first time here. That stick with a leather flap on the end wasn’t a cat toy. _It was a crop._ Oh _no_. The queasy horror of what she’d gotten herself into was trumped only by burning embarrassment.

Bull walked in from the kitchen with a plate of freshly decorated cupcakes. “Yeah, that probably wasn’t--”

“I’m sorry but I have to leave.” Grace wiped her hands on her dress the best she could, not caring any more. Her breath came too hard, head fuzzy and light. She couldn’t look Bull in the eye. She just had to _get out_.

“Are you sure? Shit, Grace, are you okay? It’s just lube. We can wash it off.”

“It’s not the lube, honestly. I just--I--look at the time!”

Bull put the plate down. “Yeah, sure. No problem, but at least let me give you some cupcakes.”

Grace nodded too fast and waited by the door, scrunching her dress in her hands. Bull went back to the kitchen then came back with a plastic container with a click-top lid and a take-away coffee cup. “Afternoon tea for when you get home. Take it easy, okay? Text me when you get home.”

She took the container and cup and backed out the door, rambling the whole way. “Thank you. I will. Thank you very much. I’m very sorry. I’m just, it’s just. It’s not you, it’s me.” Then she ran down the stairs.

She shouldn’t’ve even tried to cycle and when she almost ended tits up in the gutter just turning the corner, she got off and pushed. She pushed the whole way home, cursing herself every step of the way.

Maker, what an idiot she had been. Not only had she missed what had _obviously_ been a _series_ of dates, she'd missed just what kind of lifestyle he _clearly_ led. She didn't object to that, not in principle. She didn’t think so, anyway. It just wasn't her thing, not something she'd ever considered. She considered it now. She couldn't help it. Not after she’d seen, really seen, his home. Yes, Bull was very nice and courteous, very much the gentleman, but what happened when he stopped being a gentleman and started being… what? Would she even want that, whatever _that_ was? The grimace and lurch in her stomach told her no. She thought about that chewed up crop again. Could she have been any denser?  Maker, not by much.

But he hadn't overtly come onto her or said or done anything that made her feel uncomfortable. At least, not until she tried rubbing lube into her hands and that wasn’t even his fault. He'd welcomed her into his house. More than once, even despite her idiocy. He’d taken her out for dinner, too! Maker, how embarrassing. And that first time when he offered to cook her dinner! Why had he bothered to keep in contact with her after that?

She somehow made it home and locked up her bike. Her tea was cold by then but the thought had been nice. And having to wait for Bull to fuss about with the takeaways had given her a moment to calm down a little. She still had the cupcakes but they looked too good to eat. She left them on the counter and went to change out of her still damp dress. She'd deal with the fallout later.

*

Bull: Hey Krem. I fucked up.  
Krem: She finally figured out your true nature?  
Bull: Yeah.  
Krem: Shit.  
Bull: Yeah.  
Krem: You really like her, huh?  
Bull: Yeah.  
Krem: You wanna talk it out?  
Bull: Yeah.  
Krem: I'll be over in a bit. You want ice cream? Just made some. Stupid question. Of course you do.

*

>Bull: Hey, listen. I’m sorry about the cat and the tea and the lube. How can I made it up to you?

Grace gnawed on her thumb nail as she stared at her phone. He’d sent it yesterday and she’d gnawed her other thumbnail agonising about it then. Except for a text to say that she’d made it home fine, she’d not communicated with him since. She considered his question but what was she supposed to say? She barely understood her own reaction. She had most definitely over reacted so for that she owed him an apology but here he was, saying sorry to her for something he hadn’t done.

>Grace: I’m sor  
_Delete_  
>Grace: How’s Tiger?  
_Delete_  
>Grace: You could send a photo of Tiger  
_Delete_  


She sighed and squeezed her eyes shut. After counting to ten she opened them again. His takeaway cup and plastic container taunted her from their spot on the kitchen counter.

>Grace: I still have your containers. I’d hate you to think I had stolen them.  
_Send_

There. Done. A little perfunctory perhaps, and not very well thought through, but it was done. She navigated from her messenger to the cat cafe app. She sighed, wistfully this time. If only she could adopt all of these cats. Or live in the cafe itself. She’d be useless working there. For one she didn’t drink coffee, let alone know how to make it. Second, she’d spend her whole time playing instead of serving.

_Mrreooow_

She almost dropped her phone. Her heart beat too fast, trying to escape her chest. Her thumb hovered over the message then finally selected it.

>Bull: I can’t picture you stealing anything. Want to meet up? When’s good for you?

Best to rip off the bandaid.

>Grace: This afternoon?

Maker, Grace. Way to rub his face in it.

>Bull: Sure. 3? Cat cafe?

Grace smiled despite herself and replied. Five hours. She had five hours to unpick out her own turmoil. Maker, what was she doing.

*

Grace arrived early to see if there were any new cats to adopt but Bull was already there. He’d taken a table down the back, shielded from the rest of the cafe by a low partition. Anyone else and she might’ve missed him but his size meant he wasn’t exactly subtle. He’d seen her, too. Bugger. She gave a smile in return to his nod and headed to the counter.

Josephine smiled brightly at Grace. “Good afternoon! Tea, I presume?” She looked resplendent in her usual gold shirt. It billowed like shimmering clouds whenever she shifted.

“Yes, please.” Grace presented her card but Josephine shook her head.

“The gentleman at the back there, he said he was expecting you? He… opened a tab.”

“A tab? You have those here?”

Josephine glanced to where Bull sat then back to Grace. She lowered her voice. “More like he handed over rather more cash than was necessary and said he was expecting the gorgeous woman who makes the cat dresses. His words. He mentioned you by name.” Josephine leaned in. “Should I...I can have him removed, if you require.”

“Oh! No, no that won’t be necessary. I am meeting him. He’s…”

Josephine’s frown turned salacious. “Ah, I see. Very well. I’ll bring your tea over in a moment and then stay out of your way.”

Grace didn’t have the heart to tell her that she was here to break up with someone she wasn’t even with. As to having her drink paid for? A bit presumptuous, perhaps, especially given the aforementioned quasi break-up.

Right. Time to face Bull. But first, scratches for Mr. Grumps. He sat in his customary spot at the end of the counter, in an old and well-loved sheepskin basket. He was one a couple of permanent residents, not up for adoption and for that Grace was happy. The cafe wouldn’t be the same without this particular cantankerous cat. When she couldn’t put it off any longer, she sucked in a deep breath, put on a smile, and joined Bull at the table.

“Hello!” She mentally cringed at her obviously false enthusiasm.

“Hey, Grace.” Bull was just as soft and friendly as usual.

She couldn’t quite meet his eye so she stared at the bag she’d brought.

“How’s it going?” Bull asked.

“Oh, fine.” Grace’s stomach twisted and her toes curled in her sandals. “These are yours. Thank you.” She pushed the bag across the table. “The cupcakes were lovely.”

Bull took the bag with both hands and what wonderful hands, except--how had she not noticed before? His left hand was missing the tips of two fingers. Grace bit her lip to keep from blurting out something offensive. Bull settled the bag by his side and brought his phone out.

“Tiger did the dumbest thing this morning. So cute. You wanna see?” Bull held his phone towards Grace.

There was Tiger, curled up on the floor, covered in flour with the bag lying open next to her. Her whiskers looked like she’d been made up with white mascara, even her ear furnishings. Grace _awed_ and clutched her chest; she couldn’t help it.

“I left the flour on the bench and she jumped up while I wasn’t looking. First thing I knew was the thump on the floor. It went everywhere and she got a shock and ran away, but she came back soon enough and just sat down.”

“She’s adorable.”

“I know, right?” Bull paused. “I got more. Here.”

Grace grinned, leaning her chin on her hand as Bull flicked through photo after photo of Tiger. Josephine brought over Grace’s tea and Grace pushed it to the side, letting it steep. At some point, a cat from the cafe rubbed itself on her leg and then jumped onto her lap. Grace said hello to the kitty. A new one, short haired tabby, lovely and soft.

“Hey, looks like you made a friend,” Bull said.

Grace agreed. What a lovely cat! She tried to look at the tag on the collar but the cat had curled itself up, head tucked under its front paws. She looked up at Bull, he stared at her, soft smile on his face. His one eye crinkled at the edges. She blushed and fussed with her tea, wiggling the pot and adjusting the cup before finally pouring a cup.

“I know you’re not ready for me,” Bull said. Grace looked up, confused and embarrassed. His expression was serious now. “I can be a lot to take in at first, I know, but I don’t hide who I am and I’m not ashamed to admit what I like.”

“I don’t…” She trailed off, unsure of where this conversation was going or whether she wanted to be part of it.

“Yeah, you were pretty focussed on Tiger. That’s one of the things I like about you. I do like you. A lot. Your focus.”

Grace harrumphed. “I guess that focus meant I failed to notice what was right in front of me.”

“Yeah, I’m not exactly subtle.” He grinned.

Grace laughed, easy for the first time since she’d arrived. “I’m so sorry about your crop. I didn’t know… I feel terrible.”

“No big deal. Listen, I like you. I said that already but I want you to know I mean it. I’m sorry my place freaked you out and I hope I didn’t freak you out either. I don’t think it was outright dismissal though, right? More like a shock of sudden realisation?” Grace nodded. “Yeah, thought so. Could we, I don’t know, start again?” Bull stared at Grace, open and raw. She nodded again. He reached across the table but stopped short of touching her. “Can I hold your hand?”

Grace prised her fingers free from the tea pot. Her hand hovered above Bull’s open palm, shaking ever so slightly as it lowered to finally rest against his. His thumb curled over to rub against the back of her hand. She lifted her other hand from the tea cup and placed it in Bull’s other palm. They sat, physically connected across the table and when Grace looked up, she felt another connection, a tingle through her body starting in her fingers and ending between her legs, a sharp pulse in her clit as their eyes met. She shivered.

“You’re so strong, Grace. I see that in you.”

Grace shied away from his attention but the throbbing didn’t lessen. “I’m not that strong. I had to make two trip up the stairs with the groceries the other day.”

Bull smiled but didn’t laugh. “You know what I mean.” His voice rumbled through her, the intensity of his gaze all consuming. Her mouth went dry and she tried to swallow. She rubbed her thighs together, disturbing the cat on her lap. She stopped and the cat settled down, purring again.

He leaned forward. His face filled her whole view. Despite his intense gaze, she managed to tear herself from his eye to look at his lips. He started talking again and she squeezed his hands without meaning to.

“I’m not exactly conventional dating material, but that’s the way I like it. I like control and order. I don’t like to second guess my partner. Exploring what they--you--like, sure. That’s fun for both of us, but I like to do that within an agreed system. That might not sound all that sexy, but for me it is. It’s my job to make it good for you, too, if you want me.”

“I don’t know what you would want of me,” Grace said. “And I don’t know what to expect from you. I’ve never done this before. Your way, I mean. I’ve had--” she leaned in and whispered, “ _Sex_.”

Bull chuckled, putting her at ease. Her hands were warm and comfortable in his. “I’m not going to throw you in the deep end and expect you to know how to swim. I want to learn what _you_ like, what turns _you_ on, what makes you come _so hard_ you see stars. And then I’ll do that again. _And again_.” Grace gasped. Her clit pulsed. “As to what you can expect from me? Your pleasure is my pleasure. I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t feel comfortable with. You’ll be safe with me. Always.”

The cat shifted, jamming a paw between her legs. It pressed against her clit and for a brief moment, she wondered whether she’d orgasm from this, and then, whether orgasming from a well-placed cat paw was wrong, let alone in public.

Bull continued, his voice so low and gravelly that she felt each word as a kiss on her skin. He told her everything he wanted to make her feel, and--oh Maker--how he’d do it. The purring, the espresso machine, the cafe’s conversations and the door bell’s chime; all that melted away until only Bull’s voice remained. She kept her eyes open for as long as possible but squeezed them closed when the first twitch came. She whimpered. His grip tightened, hands around her wrists, holding her firm, fingertips stroking the inside of her wrists in time with the cadence of his voice. She twitched again, shuddering as the paw pressed harder, and dug her fingernails into his skin. Before she could stop it, exquisite pleasure radiated outwards, a warm wet heat all the way down to her curled toes and up to her ears.

She squirmed, mortified with what had just happened. The cat jumped off, shattering the quiet shelter of Bull’s voice. She couldn’t bring herself to open her eyes. Everyone must’ve been looking at her, disgusted. She turned to wall and screwed up her face, tears pricking, and tried to tug her hands from Bull. He relinquished one, allowing her to cover her face.

“Hey, it's okay. You're okay.” his voice was higher now, no rough edge.

She nodded and wiped a tear away. She still couldn’t bring herself to look at him. Something thumped on the table, followed by a fuzzy punch to the chin. Grace’s stroking reflex kicked in and the cat before her arched its back, purring and nuzzling. Slowly, the noises of the cafe came back to her.

“Grace? Hey, look at me.”

Against all her better judgement, she turned her head to look at Bull, all wobbly through her watery eyes.

“Did you?” he asked.

“Mm hmm. Just a little.”

Bull’s eyebrows shot up. “Shit. I knew I was good but not _that_ good.”

“It was more the cat. Oh Maker, how embarrassing.”

“Sounds pretty good to me,” Bull said. He let go of her hand with a squeeze. She felt the loss but welcomed it all the same.

He nodded at the cat. “That one likes you.” Grace looked at the cat in front of her. “It’s the same one that made you come, right?”

“Bull,” Grace hissed. “ _Please_.” She saw then that he had a cat curled up in the crook of his arm. Never had she identified with a cat more. Maker, he looked so.... Cuddly and comfortable. Safe. Bull stroked his cat, big hand almost covering the entire thing. He murmured to it, baby talk about what his own cat would think of him coming home smelling like another. He reached out and took Grace’s hand again, just her fingertips. She liked him, she did. She’d liked him when she first met him, even. Kind and giving, funny. His personality was as big as he was but he knew that, and knew how to moderate himself, as well as exploit it. She tried to picture herself alone with him, with fewer clothes on, him talking to her in the same way as he just had, touching her too. She swallowed hard, her thoughts working their way from her brain to her mouth.

He sounded… well, he sounded wonderful. Perfect. Too perfect, perhaps. She still didn’t know Bull all that well, though. “Could we start at the shallow end? Like, go on a date where I know it’s a date?” Bull laughed. “And maybe you could give me a tour of your house. Introduce me to what’s a cat toy and what isn’t, so I don’t end up making _that_ mistake again.”

Bull’s grin turned wicked. “I’ve got a drawer full of silk rope that I think you’ll really like. Ooh, and these nipple clamps with bells on the end that tinkle. And that feathery stick, you know the one?”

“The one with the pins?”

“Yeah, that one. I think you’ll _really_ like that. How do you feel about candles? Imagine, hot wax dripping along your stomach, pulled taut.” His gaze had gone all dreamy. “Yeah, now I’m turning myself on. All that can wait though. Date first, right?”

Grace nodded, almost eager enough to skip the date. The cat bumped her chin again and Grace apologised for having stopped stroking it. “You’re quite the madam, aren’t you?” She managed a glance at her tag. “Coco, hmm?” Grace scratched under Coco’s chin and she purred, loud and satisfied. Grace giggled, her heart flipping as she felt that love and bond she knew so well. “I feel like you and me might be friends. We’ve been through a lot together already. How about it? Would you like a new home, Coco? Will you help me with my sewing?”

Coco mewed, a short little _merp_ and Grace laughed.

“I think you’ve found your One,” Bull said.

Grace looked up at him. Coco held his attention. He looked just like he had when Grace had first seen him, when he was staring at Tiger in his arms. The disappointment and frustration from that day melted away. Her recent embarrassment and shame was replaced with the fresh promise of something new, a future to explore and look forward to.

“I think you might be right,” Grace said.

Bull met her eyes and smiled. “So, when’s our date?”

*

Grim: Pay up  
Skinner: Fuck you


End file.
